


Blood and Silver

by tanwencooper



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Crazy Kate, Derek Feels, Fairy Tale Retellings, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Little Red Riding Hood - Freeform, M/M, fairy tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanwencooper/pseuds/tanwencooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time there was a boy who lived on the edge of the deep, dark forest and in the forest there lived a big bad wolf...</p><p>Stiles' father has been paranoid about him ever since his mother died, making him wear a red cloak to ward off the monsters of the forest. When he defies his father's wishes Stiles is rescued from the last of the Wolves, his former mentor Derek, by the hunter Kate Argent. But all is not as it seems to Stiles. Maybe the wolf isn't as big or as bad as he has been told.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood and Silver

            Once upon a time there was a boy who lived on the edge of the deep, dark forest and in the forest there lived a big bad wolf…

 

*********************************************************************

 

            “Stiles, if you’re heading out make sure you-”

            “I’m wearing the damn cloak Pa!” Stiles said to his father on his way out of the house.

            “Where are you going anyway?” his father asked, suspicious as always.

            “Scott’s finishing work soon. He’s trying to come up with new ways to woo Allison.”

            “They’re already betrothed!” his Dad said laughing. “It must really be love. I used to do that with your mother.”

            He looked sad for a moment. It had been over two years but they both still missed her terribly.

            “Stay out of the-”

            “Forest. Yes. I know. We might go a little outside the village boundaries, but we’ll stay in shouting distance, I promise.”

            “Good. And keep the cloak on. I mean it!”

            “I will,” he called heading out the door.

            Stiles hated the damn thing. It was ugly, smelled bad, heavy as hell and when it rained it soaked up all the water and got even heavier. You were supposed to wear it when riding, apparently. Probably because the only way you could support it was if you had the help of a horse. Supposedly it was red but it wasn’t a bright scarlet or anything as attractive as that. No. It was burgundy, like the whole thing had just been dipped in cheap wine. Smelled like it was rotting too, a scent that had once been pleasant but had now turned foul.

            But his Dad was the Sheriff of their little village. And if the Sheriff wanted his son to wear an ugly ass cloak every time he goes out, then the Sheriff’s son better wear the ugly ass cloak every time he goes out. At least its ruddy colouring made it good for hiding in the depths of the forest when he decided to ignore his Dad’s warnings.

            He headed out the street with the intention of going to straight to see his friend at the blacksmith’s but as he walked through the village he saw a stag standing on the path leading into the woods. They didn’t usually come this close to the village during the day, experience telling them to stay away from anything that stunk of man. It looked at him with its big eyes and Stiles suddenly felt drawn to it. The stag turned and loped away into the forest.

            He wasn’t supposed to go into the woods alone. He knew that. He wasn’t supposed to stray from the village unless he was with one of his friends but he couldn’t help himself. It was like the stag was calling him on, telling him to follow. It was a sign. Stiles had always had a soft spot for the creatures of the forest. He got that from his mother. They used to go around the woods together, freeing the foxes and rabbits them from the Argents’ traps, pretending that the animals must have learned how to spring them on their own when the hunters got mad. That was a long time ago. Before the Wolves killed her.

            Stiles didn’t really think of it as defying his father. He started walking and suddenly he was in the middle of the woods a mile from the village, the deer always just in view as it bounded on ahead, waiting for him to catch up before moving again. It stopped and turned again.

            Tentatively Stiles stretched out his hand and went to stroke the animal’s nose. It snuffled slightly, taking in his smell and nuzzled into it. He’d seen his Mom do this a thousand times, his Grandma too, calming dogs and sick animals. It was a gift, they said. Since she’d gone he was just beginning to find the gift in himself. He could feel the thoughts of the animal, small simple thoughts about food and a background wariness as it listened for predators.

            His fingers went to the small wooden pendant he’d carved with his parents years ago. All three of them had made one and none of them ever took it off. When they’d found his mother it was gone. Stolen or torn off of her, the Wolves hadn’t cared. It was that more than anything that told him she was really gone.

            The deer suddenly sprang away, dashing away into the undergrowth as an arrow whipped past Stiles head. He hit the ground, throwing his arms up to protect himself.

            A figure dressed in tight fitting leather stepped towards him. The green dyed leather blended in with the tones of the forest perfectly, a dark cowl hiding their face. A bow was stretched between their hands, a new arrow already notched. Stiles watched as the hunter advanced on him, tensing up the string as it tried to see who was hiding under the mass of cloak. He lifted his arm so they could see his face and determine he was friend, not foe.

            “Stiles?” said the hunter. “Jeeze, boy. I nearly shot you.”

            “Sorry Miss Argent.”

            Kate lowered her hood and helped Stiles to his feet.

            “What you doing skulking around in that cloak? You blend in with the trees too well. I thought you weren’t supposed to be this far into the forest.”

            “I was following the deer,” he said.

            Kate shook her head and re-stowed her arrow.

            “Let me guess. The two of you were going to go and release all the traps I spent all day laying”

            Stiles shook his head. If the hunters didn’t hunt then the village didn’t eat. He knew that. Just because a deer nuzzled at your hand didn’t mean it wasn’t still food.

            “It came in close to the village is all. I thought it was weird.”

            “It’s the Wolves,” said Kate. She cocked her head, looking at him sadly. It was a small place, Beacon Hill, everyone knew what everyone else was doing, and who everyone’s parents were. They especially knew the boy whose mother had been torn apart by the monsters they hadn’t even known lived amongst them.

            “I thought you killed them all,” Stiles said. “I thought you took down Laura at the last full moon.”

            Stiles felt queasy at the memory. They’d killed his mother. He had to remember that. It was retribution. They were monsters, werewolves. Living amongst them for years, becoming their friends, gaining their trust, none of them knowing that a pack of wild animals lived in their midst. Then they’d gone feral, and torn Stiles’ mother to shreds. Kate had found what was left of her, recognised the signs. It had been the family of hunters who’d started the mob, tracking the pack to the Hale’s home, discovering their secret. They’d bared the doors, locked the whole family inside before they set the fire. At night Stiles could still hear the screams of the little ones.

            “Nearly,” said Kate cheerfully. “There’s still the boy, what was his name?”

            “Derek,” said Stiles. He’d looked up to the man once. They’d played together in the long summer evenings, the older boy teaching the youngsters of the village all the best spots in the woods where you could hide all day and your parents would never find you. He’d admired Derek, more than that. When the lynch mob came he and Laura had managed to escape their wrath. For two years they’d stayed away but something had brought them back last full moon. Derek had escaped the hunters. Laura had not.

            It was justice, Stiles told himself again. They’d taken his mother’s life. They deserved to die.

            “That was it. Derek. It’ll be a shame to kill him. He was a good, solid worker I hear. Spent all day toiling in the fields without complaint, unlike you youngsters. Ahh well.” She shrugged and looked Stiles up and down. “Well at least you shouldn’t have to worry about Wolves. That cloak might make you almost invisible in a shady wood so you end up getting shot, but it should keep the Wolves at bay.”

            “This? I hate this thing,” said Stiles. “It’s heavy and it stinks.”

            “Of course it does honey, that’s kind of the point,” said Kate. “It’s been soaked in wolf’s bane.”

            “It has?”

            “Yeah. My brother gave it to your Dad because he was so worried about the Wolves getting you too. Why do think he makes you wear it? It keeps all the big bad Wolves at bay.”

            She waggled her fingers at him like she was telling a spooky story. Honestly. He was sixteen. That meant he was a man now. He had a job, working as a farm hand. His muscles were already getting more pronounced from day after day of hard labour. It was exhausting, but it felt good to finally be able to contribute to the family. Besides, it was only temporary. He was saving up to do an apprenticeship. Then he’d be set for life. His Dad was always going on about how he should ask Lydia’s parents to court her officially. He was a much better fit for her than that cad, Jackson, but still... Stiles had other ideas for where his life should lead.

            “I never got how a plant could keep something as strong as a werewolf away. They’re just flowers,” said Stiles.

            It had been a shock to learn that werewolves weren’t just stories told to keep kids from straying too far into the woods. Luckily the Argents’ had been on hand. Apparently the town they lived in before had been ravaged by Wolves. They knew everything. How to track one, how to make one turn so you could be sure it really was a Wolf and, most importantly, they knew what it took to kill one.

            “There are plenty of plants that are poisonous to humans. Plenty that are poisonous to normal wolves. Stands to reason there must be one that hurts the unholy union of the two.”

            Stiles was about to grumble his assent when Kate went tense beside him. Her back was straight, her bow quickly back in her hands.

            “What is it?” Stiles hissed.      

            She was grinning madly.

            “He’s here.”

            “Who? You mean Derek.”

            Stiles went cold. Derek was here. One of the monsters that killed his mother. He’d come to finish off Stiles too.

            “Come on,” Kate called.

            There was a rustle of leaves. Slowly Stiles turned to see a huge shadow moving out of the bushes. The shadow materialised into the biggest wolf he’d ever seen. Its eyes were burning pits of red hate, looking straight at Kate. He couldn’t move. He was frozen to the spot. He’d expected to see something familiar in them. A trace of the Derek he’d known once, before either of them had lost their family. But there wasn’t, just fury.

            Stiles let out a whimper as he froze, every part of him wanting to run but completely unable to. The Wolf’s head jerked to one side, turning to look at Stiles. The red hue of his eyes faded to a familiar hazel. It really was him. It was Derek. If he’d come back to finishe was his family had started then why did his eyes look so sadly at Stiles? The Wolf took a step toward Stiles. Even through the fear he could sense the animal, feel the wave of empathy between them.

            Kate barged Stiles out the way, drawing her bow and firing at the Wolf. He leapt out the way easily, bearing his teeth as he advanced.

            “Run Stiles,” Kate said, reading another shot. “The hunt is no place for a kid like you.”

            The connection between him and the animal suddenly burned with fury and violence. The adrenaline cut through him, shaking him to his senses. Derek was a dangerous beast. He had to get out of there. He scrabbled away on the ground and started running back to the village, towards home, to where he’d be safe.

 

*****

 

            “Derek! Come out, come out where ever you are!”

            Kate was stalking around the forest paths with her bow drawn. Derek felt the growl forming in the back of his throat. It took all of his self-control to not leap forward and tear the woman’s throat out. The second that he’d gotten Stiles away from the woman he’d bounded off in the opposite direction. He should be fleeing, finding a new lair to bed down in for the night, but he couldn’t leave her. The Wolf was claiming him. The Wolf wanted her dead. The Wolf wanted revenge. It was all her fault. She was the one that made them think Stiles’ mother’s death was a werewolf attack, incited the mob. It was her. Her. All her.

            “Oh come on Derek. It’s not like you to hide. You’re more the kind who runs. When we came for your family did you try and save them? Clear their name? No. You ran while your family burned. You ran when we took down your sister. Did you know she screamed like a bitch when we cut her in half!”

            He roared and sprang forward. Kate span but he’d come from an angle she hadn’t been expecting. His heavy body collided with her side, knocking the bow out of her hand. As he readied to bite down on her neck but she struck upwards, striking his throat. He had to bound back in order to breathe and she rolled out from under him. Derek stepped backwards onto her bow, snapping it in half.

            “You owe me a new bow,” she said with a sadistic grin.

            She fished out a hunting knife from her belt. Silver. He growled at her, tensing to strike the second that he saw his opening.

            “Look at the little lone wolf,” she said. “Last of his pack. Nobody wants him. Hunted. Alone. Why don’t you just give up and let us kill you. It would be the kindest thing.”

            He barked at her as he tried to get close, but she slashed forward with the knife. He could smell the wolf’s bane on it. Even a nick from that might make him sick enough that he couldn’t get away.

            “Hmm. Stalemate. Maybe I should be the one to run.”

            She sprang to her feet and dashed off into the trees. He couldn’t help himself. When something ran, he had to chase. Kate was fast, but he was faster. He’d always been faster, it had saved his life a dozen times already. Every time he got close, she’d turn back and slash at him with her knife, keeping him at bay.

            The cliff broke through the tree line. Kate sprang up its cliff face with ease, bouncing from ledge to ledge. He jumped up as far as he could, his teeth just missing her ankle. His feet wouldn’t get any purchase on the wall. He needed fingers to cling to the nooks and crannies. If he’d been in human form Derek could have gotten up there with ease, but it would take too long to shift, he’d be a sitting duck. She might not have her bow any more but Kate could throw a knife and strike a moving target from a hundred feet away in a gale. She pulled herself up to the top and looked back down at him with a satisfied smile.

            “Down boy,” said Kate. “You wouldn’t want the villagers to hear the Wolf in the woods and scare the children, now would you?”

            He glared up at her, his Wolf eyes glowing red. He’d vowed to kill that woman. The woman who’d unjustly disgraced and reviled his family, murdered them all, forced him to live as more Wolf than man. If anyone was a monster here, it was her.

            “As fun as this has been I have to get home to my family. We’re planning on having stew for dinner and then whiling away the long autumn nights telling stories by the fire. What are you planning on doing?”

            Her laugh carried across the woods as she turned and disappeared from view. Fixated on the cliff top, Derek growled long after she was gone. When he stopped he felt a sudden wave of melancholy sweep over him.

            Overcome with loneliness Derek howled at the moon, waiting for the reply that never came.

           

*****

 

            Stiles should not have been out in the woods by himself. If he wasn’t supposed to during the middle of the day, then he definitely shouldn’t been sneaking out in the middle of the night and he absolutely shouldn’t be doing it when he’d heard the Wolf howling through the night.

            He remembered Derek’s mother telling him once that the howling was how wolves communicated. One would cry out and another would respond. She said the loneliest sound in the world was the call of a single wolf singing into the night, lost and alone. At the time he’d wondered how she’d known so much about the animals.

            The moon overhead was a day or two off of being full so he had enough light to search by. His fingers went to his throat, bare without his pendant. He’d been fiddling with it when he’d been talking to Kate. It must have fallen off when he’d fled. He felt a strange chill when he remembered Derek. All he could think of at the time was the hate he’d felt, but now he kept thinking back to when Derek had looked at him.

            Again the wolf howled out into the night. Mrs Hale had been right. It was the loneliest sound he’d ever heard.

            The only reason he’d risked sneaking out was that the howl was higher up the mountains. He’d nearly left the cloak behind, certain that Derek was safely miles away but in the end he’d worn it anyway. Defying his father’s desires as much as he already was, he could at least do this one small thing. It would help him blend in in case anyone else was out and about in the dark of the night and it was really warm too.

            A second howl came. This one was different. Deeper and more like a roar. The cry of a werewolf and this one wasn’t from up in the mountains. It wasn’t even from a mile away. It was from right behind him. He could hear the sound of the Wolf, of Derek, padding up behind him. Stiles slowly turned around.

            Before his eyes he watched as bones and muscles changed, shrinking and expanding. He could hear the crack of the werewolf’s bones as he changed back into the man Stiles recognised. It was the first time Stiles had watched one of them transform. Until now, he’d only half believed it. Derek unfurled his body standing up straight, the moonlight highlighting every curve of his muscles as he stood there naked. Stiles’ chest constricted. He was frozen again only this time there was no Kate to push him out the way to safety.

            This was one of the things that had killed his mother. The boy who had taught him and Scott how to swim, how to track a deer and how to steal Mr Harris’s apples without getting caught. This was the man who had killed his mother.

            Derek began to stalk forward. Stiles’ flight instinct kicked in. He turned and ran. He couldn’t tell if Derek was behind him or where he was running. Stiles just ran. He ran, the heavy cloak dragging behind him, catching on every plant and twig. He ran and he ran, panic carrying him on.

            A sharp pain pulled on his ankle. Crashing to the ground he tried to get back up but it only made the pain worse. He pulled but something still held him. Frantically he tried to kick it off, turning around when he saw Derek appearing behind him. Stiles pulled more but his foot was caught. Hands scrabbling, he clawed at his leg and found a coil of wire wrapped around his ankle.

            “Looks like the Argents caught you after all,” said Derek.

            The snare was holding Stiles fast. The stake holding it down was not going to move. Stiles tried to cower away as much as he could, cursing himself for not at least bringing a knife. He clutched his cloak, the only protection he had, tighter around himself. He leaned backwards but glared at Derek defiantly. Whatever Derek wanted to do, whatever unfinished business he wanted to exact, Stiles would make him do it to his face. It was all false though. Inside, Stiles was cowering like a baby girl.

            Derek stood over him. Despite his fear, Stiles couldn’t stop his eyes from dancing down Derek’s body. If he was going to die at least he could have one last look at something pretty.

            The man crouched down, looking at the snare about Stiles’ ankle. His fingers were tipped with claws, Stiles saw. His leg spasmed frantically as he tried to get away, only pulling the snare tighter. Derek grabbed his leg and Stiles screamed as he slashed at it.

            When he finished screaming Stiles realised that he wasn’t, actually, in any pain. He looked at his leg. Derek was still holding it but the snare was slashed apart. Derek’s claws had gone straight through the metal. Stiles stared at it for a second before looking up into Derek’s horribly familiar eyes. He scooted away, backing up until he was against a tree. His body still thrummed from the panic and the fear but he was feeling slightly calmer now he was free. Derek had had a dozen chances to tear him apart but hadn’t. Either he wasn’t going to or he was going to toy with Stiles’ long enough that he might get a chance to run away. His ankle still throbbed from where the snare had bit in. Running might be a little difficult actually.

            “What are you doing here?” asked Stiles. His breath was still jagged and panting, but he managed to get the words out fairly level.

            “I live here,” said Derek.

            “But why, why are you still here? Why don’t you run away? Go. Leave. Why did you even come back?”

            “You thought I was trying to kill you and your first question is ‘why don’t I leave’.”

            Stiles caught his eyes for a second before getting self-conscious and looking away. Could Derek tell in the dim moonlight he was flushing?

            Derek sat down on the floor besides Stiles. The boy pulled his legs up closer to him defensively so that all of him apart from his face was covered by the cloak. He should be terrified but it wasn’t fear that was setting Stiles’ heart racing. His eyes traced Derek’s body, taking it in properly now. He’d lost weight, a lot. His muscles, once so defined by hours of physical labour, had wasted away from two years of living in the wilderness. His eyes were dark from countless nights of bad sleep in the cold. If anything, though, all that only made him more handsome. To Stiles at least.

            “I never got to talk to you and the others,” Derek said sadly. “I just… I just need to explain.”

            “Explain,” spat out Stiles. He leaned forward but his ankle pained him into sitting back against the tree. “You want to explain how you’re a monster? Why you killed my mother?”

            He saw Derek recoil, ashamed by what he was, what he’d done.

            “I’m not a monster and I didn’t kill your mother,” he said, tense.

            “Well one of you did. You’re all the same.”

            “No. No we didn’t, Stiles. Your mother was killed, maybe by a regular wolf or a bear or a mountain lion, and it was a tragedy but it wasn’t by my or any of my family.”

            “Why should I believe you! You lied to me, to all of us. Why should I believe a damn word you say?”

            “Because you know me Stiles. At the moment, you probably know me best out of everyone in the whole world.” Stiles hugged himself tighter. With the rest of Derek’s family gone, the rest of his pack, he probably did. “Do you honestly think that I could have killed your mother? Do you? Do you think I could have done that, or have known that one of my family did, and ever have been able to look you in the eye? You know we didn’t do this, Stiles. I think you’ve known all along.”

            Stiles hung his head, burying the angry tears in the folds of his cloak. They had killed his mother. That’s what they’d all said. They’d killed his mother and they had to pay for their crimes. But the Hale’s weren’t stupid. They’d lived in the village for generations without anyone knowing. _It just didn’t make sense_ , he’d said to his Dad, _why would they have just left her body like that in the open to be found by anyone?_ A dangerous dog was a dangerous dog, his Dad had said, they had to be put down. It was too late anyway. The Hale house had already gone cold for a second time by that point.

            “If it wasn’t you then why did the Argents say that it was?” he sobbed out.

            “Because it was a genuine mistake? Because they miss read the facts. Because they hate our kind? Because they wanted to burn something? I don’t know Stiles. There’s no point in asking why, it just makes you crazy. But I just… you to understand that I didn’t do this. You need to know that.”

            “Why! It doesn’t matter if a werewolf killed her or a mountain lion did, my mother is still dead,” Stiles shouted at him.

            Derek recoiled from the force of it. He looked away, slightly shamed.

            “Fine. _I_ need you to know that.”

            “You know,” said Stiles angrily struggling to his feet, “I always knew you were different. You always kept half a step back from the rest of us. When I was little I thought you were just being the older kid teaching the young ones, mentor rather than friend. Then when I got older I realised that that wasn’t it. You were like that with everyone. While we were talking about what trade we wanted to take up or dreamed about visiting the big cities you always hung back and talked about how you would be happy living in the woods, so congratulations on that one. When we started courting girls and talking about getting married you never said a word, you just brooded in the corner. I thought that you were different like I was different. That ‘ _hey, there’s another guy like me. Maybe I don’t have to pretend and be alone anymore. Maybe I get to be happy,_ ’ but no! You just didn’t want to get hitched to some stupid human who’d freak out the second you turned into a monster.”

            Stiles wiped the tears from his eyes as he finished. He’d just started talking and let the words come out. It was only now he realised exactly what he’d said. He’d just admitted everything about himself. The deep dark secret he’d kept hidden from everyone, even Scott. The real reason that he got flustered anytime someone joked about him and Lydia getting married. Not because he wanted it, but because he dreaded it.

            Derek was still sat on the ground. They’d seen each other naked enough times around the lake, the memory of water flowing off of Derek’s torso was something he often called to mind in the dark hours of the night. Now Derek was trying to hide himself from Stiles. He realised what the boy was really angry about and it was Derek’s turn to be disgusted, think Stiles the abomination.

            “I thought… I thought you and Lydia-” Derek said carefully, keeping his eyes on the ground.

            “I like Lydia good enough,” Stiles said, sniffing. He stood up straight, head up unashamed. It he was going to cry he could at least do it like a man. “She’d make a good wife but she was always going to be Jackson’s wife. She’s the mayors’ daughter and he’s the son of the richest man in the village. I pretend to pine over Lydia and I don’t have to go through the horror and shame of actually getting married and being unable to perform my husbandly duty.”

            Derek was huddling himself up smaller on the ground.

            “You could have told me you know,” he said.

            Stiles sobbed out a laugh.

            “No Derek, I really couldn’t. You are probably the one person in the world I couldn’t tell.”

            Stiles wiped his eyes clear and began to walk back to the village. His ankle was still painful, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. It was a relief compared to that. He didn’t know if what Derek said was true, whether the Wolves had killed his mother, or just a random animal, but he was pretty sure Derek wasn’t planning on killing him tonight. As he walked past, Derek stood up and went to grab his arm. His hand barely grazed the long red cloak when he recoiled, whelping and cradling his hand to himself. The finger that had brushed Stiles were covered in red blotches and sores. As he watched Stiles saw them disappear. Derek flexed his hand then untied something at his wrist. It was the pendant Stiles had come out here to find in the first place.

            “You dropped this,” said Derek holding it at arm’s length. “I know how important it was to you.

            Hesitantly Stiles snatched it back. His eyes did another involuntary sweep of Derek’s body before he caught himself and turned away. Without thanks he tied the leather thong around his neck and began to find his way home.

 

*****

 

            Derek watched the red blur that was Stiles disappear into the night. The boy was trying to hide it but he was limping on the leg that had been caught in the snare.

            Derek didn’t realise how much he missed him until he’d seen him yesterday. He missed them all. His family, his friends, his neighbours. He missed getting out of work and drinking in the tavern with everyone. He missed the summer days when they all went and climbed the cliffs, racing to get the top and he’d always let the younger kids win. He missed coming home to find Laura singing to her new born son and playing with the dogs, either as a human or as a Wolf. When he and Laura had come back to try and clear their family’s name they’d crept up one night to see how everyone was. They’d not been able to get very close. It seemed like every patch of grass was littered with wolf’s bane plants.

            Perhaps he should run after the boy, hold him close and tell him it would all be alright. No. He’d been through enough. Besides, he’d only end up getting burned by the wolf’s bane cloak. He stared down at his hand, good as new after his brush with Stiles earlier. Right now, Derek might have suffered a body wide rash if it meant having contact with another human being. He’d been alone in the woods for so long.

            Maybe Stiles was right. What we he staying here for anyway? To kill Kate? She might have started the mob but half the village had gathered to set the fire. He couldn’t kill all of them, even if on some of his darker night’s he’d wanted to. It was time to let it go. Move on. Start a life far, far away where no one knew who he was.

            He looked back, convinced that his super human sight meant that he could still see the outline of Stiles as he carried on home. A few more days, just to make sure he was alright, that the snare hadn’t hurt his ankle too badly, and then he’d leave Beacon Hill, and never look back.

 

*****

 

            The Argents were the best hunters and trackers in the whole of this mountain range and Kate was the best of them. She’d tracked Stiles without he boy even slightly suspecting that he was being followed. It had just been a hunch, one that had paid off. She’d positioned herself up wind as the two of them talked, waiting for the boy to leave so that she could take her time dealing with Derek.

            Taking down regular wolves and bears was so boring. Too easy. She liked something that she had to outsmart. Something she had to rely on all of her wiles to take down. She’d particularly liked using some of those wiles on the young Derek. A young man of twenty, sweaty from an hour of chopping wood. A hand run through his hair and a quick backup against the woodshed was all it had taken to get that golden flash across his eyes, confirm there were werewolves in this hick town. He’d run off like a scared pup. At the time she’d thought it was just a young man’s first brush with a real woman giving him performance anxiety. Having seen Derek’s reaction after the Stilinski boy’s admission she was beginning to think it might be something else.

            Ever since she’d moved here to be nearer her brother and his family she’d suspected the Hale’s. Chris had wanted to get away from all of that, tracking down goblins and ghouls, but it was what Kate lived for. He might be happy to live next to them and do nothing but she wasn’t willing to give up the hunt just yet.

            And now there was only one of them left. She wanted to make sure she enjoyed this one.

            Derek was staring out at the point where Stiles’ had run away from him. He was cradling his hand even though it had healed. This certainly was an interesting development. If she wanted to make the creature really suffer then perhaps regular pain wasn’t the only way to do it. After all, there are things that are so much worse than death.

 

*****

 

            “Are you sure your Dad won’t kill me?” said Scott.

            Allison was clutching on to his hand, looking at Stiles.

            “Are you sure that the Wolves won’t kill you?” she asked.

            “Wolf,” said Stiles sadly. “There’s only Derek left now.”      

            Scott shifted uncomfortably. When the mob had been raised they’d hidden themselves away at home, all of them. They hadn’t been part of the mob that killed the Hale’s, but none of them had even tried to stop it or enforce the trial they were entitled to. Stiles’ suspected it was more than just himself that had his doubts about who, or what, had killed his mother. It weighed heavily on them all, even now. His Dad was certain though, the cast iron certainty that comes from needing someone to blame and not caring if it was the right person or not.

            “I’ll be fine,” said Stiles. He wasn’t going to explain about how he knew Derek wasn’t going to hurt him. “It’s just to grandma’s house. You think that the little old lady would want to live near people who could look after her rather than making everyone haul ass over there five times a week.”

            Allison smiled but she still looked apprehensive, pulling her sleeves up over her hands and covering her chin with them.

            “Maybe we shouldn’t,” she said to Scott. “We could all go. Then we still get to spend time together but Stiles won’t get in trouble.”

            Scott looked to Stiles with a pleading look. The ‘I will if you want, but please don’t want it’.

            “Allison. I will be fine. I’ve got my cloak on if he does show up so he can’t touch me. You two crazy kids go spend the afternoon doing all the things her father would kill him for doing to you.”

            Scott looked at his future wife with a roguish grin, dragging her deeper into the woods before Stiles could change his mind. The two of them would be married before the year was out. It wouldn’t be long before his father insisted he start looking for a serious bride. Maybe he could feign a broken heart over Lydia’s own betrothal, but he could only keep it up for so long. Perhaps he should just come and live in the woods with his grandma.

            You could hear his grandma’s house before you could see it, and you could smell it even before that. Despite just being the ‘crazy lady who lives off in the woods’, she had a larger menagerie than most of the farmers. There was the cow, the goats, the sheep, the dog, the fox who seemed to have just decided it was one of her pets now as well as the countless other woodland creatures that wandered in and out of her home as they pleased. Stiles and his mother had an affinity for animals. She was practically at one with them. It was one of the reasons he liked going to see Grandma Alaina. She made her way in the world by curing all the ills of the villagers livestock, gaining free milk, eggs, wool and meat in return. She was pretty good at helping with sick children as well, saying that children and animals were pretty much the same at the end of the day.

            The faint wiff of manure floated into his nose and he smiled. Out front his grandma’s cow was munching happily on the small patch of grass while the goats trotted up to say hello. He got out one of the pieces of turnip he’d brought for the occasion out of the basket of vegetables for his grandma and let them eat out of his hand. He gave them a scratch behind the ears and went to the door. It was already ajar which was unusual. The animals had a bad habit of traipsing through the house if she didn’t keep it firmly shut.

            “Grandma?” Stiles called into the house.

            He heard a weak cough coming from her bedroom. Putting the basket on the table he took off his cloak and hung it on the back of the chair.

            “You feeling okay?” asked Stiles.

            “I’m fine,” she croaked. She didn’t sound fine.

            Inside her bedroom the shutters were still closed so it was quite hard to see. His Grandma groaned from the bed and he saw the covers move. He sat down on the edge of the bed and shook his Grandma gently to wake her up properly.

            “You been working out Grandma? Your arms seem twice as thick,” he joked. Then he squinted. Her bonnet was on her head weirdly, like it had been stuffed. “You got one of your strange cures going on in there? Stuff your hat with radishes and wrap up your arms or something?”

            The covers were thrown back and Stiles was wrapped up in them, knocked down to the floor. He got free in time to see Kate shaking her hair loose from the bonnet. Her knife was in her hand.

            He tried to get free to fight, but his arms were still caught up as she struck. He braced for the pain but she barely nicked him. Finally he got to his feet and grabbed a candlestick from his Grandma’s dresser. Kate didn’t try to stop him. She just stood there as he swung the stick back over his shoulder ready to knock her head off. And then he dropped it. He looked back at his hand, trying to tell his fingers to flex but they wouldn’t obey him. Now he couldn’t make his neck turn to look back at her. His knees gave way and he landed heavily on the floor, shrieking out in pain.

            “What have you done to my Grandma!” he shouted.

            Kate laughed. “You are just adorable! You’re paralyzed on the floor and you ask about your Grandma first. Man, I should have had a few rounds with you as well as Derek.”

            “As well as… as well as Derek?” he stuttered. “What did you do with Derek?”

            “Just the things that boys and girls like to do together. You do know the things I mean. That boys and _girls_ like to do together,” she taunted. She knew! How did she know? Shit, and that meant Derek liked girls, not… now is not the time to worry about that, Stiles!

            He tried to get up. He tried to sit up. He tried to wiggle his damn toes but nothing was happening. Kate was holding her knife up, pressing the point carefully into her fingertip so as not to puncture herself.

            “I try to eradicate all the monsters of this world but sometimes they have these little quirks that are so damn useful. With werewolves, it’s the pack instinct. Loyalty. You grab one of them and the rest will come sure as sunrise. Then you have the kanima. That’s a rare one but they produce this poison that just paralyses a body completely.”

            She took the knife and dragged it down the side of Stiles face so that it scraped but didn’t cut.

            “If you’re going to kill me just do it already,” he said.

            He clenched his jaw. The only show of defiance he could muster right now was to not show his terror. Kate laughed, tapping the side of the knife against his neck.

            “I’m not going to kill you honey. Not yet anyway. See the thing about this poison is that it paralyses you but it doesn’t stop you from feeling anything.”

            She ran her hands down his chest, then lifted up his shift and licked all the way down his stomach. He tried to move away but he couldn’t. All he could do was close his eyes and pretend he was with someone else.

            “Don’t worry. You won’t have to endure much of me molesting you,” she said, standing up and walking over to the fire. She pulled out a poker that had been sitting in the coals. The end glowed red hot. “You see, I don’t want you to have my wicked way with you, fun as that would be. What I want is to make you scream.”

 

*****

 

            Derek was hunting up in the mountains when he heard the screams. He knew whose they were instantly and, what was worse, he knew who was causing them. Abandoning his prey he started running to the source of the screams.

            This was why he hadn’t left! This was why he’d been so hell bent on getting revenge on Kate. If he didn’t how many more innocent people, werewolf or otherwise, would she slaughter before she was done? Because he’d failed to take her down, Stiles was now screaming in agony.

            The animals around Grandma Alain’s house scattered when he came bounding in. How long had it been since the first scream? Why had he gone so high into the mountains to hunt? The cries were little more than wimpers now, occasionally climaxing as Kate thought of some new way to cause pain. He barrelled through the door and found Kate standing over Stiles on the floor. He was just lying there, stripped nearly naked, covered in blood and angry burns.

            “Finally,” she said, throwing the poker towards the fire. “You’re here!”

            It was too tight inside to fight with her as he was and he quickly shifted back to human. He wasn’t surprised that she waited until he was ready. She regarded his body with satisfaction.

            “One of the things I love most about this town. All the men are so damn attractive, even if I did prefer you all muscley,” she said, poking Stiles’ with her foot. He was too delirious from the absence of pain to notice. Stiles was having trouble speaking but he was trying to warn Derek about something.

            “What did you do to him?” Derek asked. His eyes darted as he searched for a weapon. She didn’t seem to have one either apart from her silver knife. More low tech methods had been used to torture Stiles. A poker, a pair of tongs, a whip, all lovingly laid out on the bed.

            “You’d be surprised what you can do with a hot poker and a little imagination,” Kate said. “So, shall we dance?”

            She jumped forward to slash him. As he darted out the way, Derek drew his claws. He crouched down between her and Stiles. Roaring he advanced, trying to drive her back into the kitchen and away from Stiles. She saw what he was doing straight away and immediately leapt onto the table to get the height advantage, grabbing Stiles’ cloak and holding it out between them. Derek started to circle her, but she wasn’t having any of it. She dropped down opposite him and together they stared to circle around the kitchen.

            “This one’s got fight! I like them lively, like Laura. She was fun.” She was trying to bait him. He had to fight the urge to rise to it and rip her throat out. She’d get him with the red cloak before he could get close. “Getting all your family to stay in that damn house was tricky, it’s why we missed so many of you. Mrs Stilinski was kind of a bore though. Hardly fought at all, especially when I said I’d choke the life out of her son if she didn’t behave.”

            “What,” said Stiles. It sounded like it hurt to so much as breathe. Derek wanted to check and make sure he was alright, he wasn’t moving, but he had to take care of Kate first.

            “Yes Stiles,” she said waving her knife. “The Wolves didn’t kill your mother. I did. Me. It’s pretty hard to fake a werewolf attack though. You have to make sure that they’re still alive when you slash them open or the blood doesn’t flow right. She barely even screamed as I tore into her over and over again.”

            Stiles screamed and flipped on to his side. His legs still seemed to be rendered immobile by whatever Kate had done, but rage was making him claw his way forward. His legs were barely responding and every motion was agony, but he still clawed his way forward.

            Kate cackled.

            “Look! It’s finally trying to fight back. Don’t worry Stiles. I just need to deal with this guy and then I’ll put you out of your misery. Permanently.”

            Derek tensed. He had to win. It wasn’t just his life anymore, it was Stiles’. Something he actually gave a damn about saving.

            “Knife,” Stiles managed to choke out as he crawled. “Poison.”

            Derek’s attention focused on the blade. That was just her style. She smiled before leaping across the table at him again, throwing out the cloak ahead of her. He missed the blade by inches and twisted away from her, but the cloak still struck, burning him and making him stumble backwards. He fell over a chair, throwing the cloak off of him but making him tumble backwards into the bedroom. Landing with his legs caught in furniture, he saw Kate stood on the edge of the room holding Stiles up by his hair. The knife was pressed to his throat. Stiles didn’t look afraid. He was too far gone to look afraid. All he was doing was looking directly at Derek.

            “He’s a pretty little thing don’t you think,” said Kate to Stiles. “I can see the appeal, I’ve had a go myself. He even fought for you. Maybe you could have had that happy ever after, after all. Now Derek will have to watch as another person dies because of his failure.”

            She licked down the side of Stiles’ face and he didn’t even flinch. He just kept staring at Derek.

            “It’s not your fault,” he whispered as Kate began to slash towards his throat.

            The wardrobe door sprung open, hitting Kate in the elbow. A second later a hogtied and gagged Grandma Alain fell on top of her grandson. She was yelling violently through her gag as she kicked and lashed out at Kate.

            Derek took his chance and leapt forward. He didn’t bother with taunts or a last good bye. He just slashed his claws across her throat and threw her lifeless body to one side so he could check on Stiles.

            Cradling him in his arms, Derek was shocked up how floppy he was. It was like he was already half corpse. Examining closer, Derek could see that he was covered in whip lashes as well as burns and cuts. She’d really gone to town on him. Derek held Stiles closer.

            “You… you came for me,” Stiles said.

            He couldn’t keep his head straight. It was lolling from side to side. What if the poison was fatal, would Stiles die anyway? He couldn’t bear that. Not Stiles. Anyone but Stiles.

            A pair of feet kicking Derek in the side reminded him about Stiles’ grandmother. He slashed her bonds undone with his claws. Freed, she knelt beside her grandson and began to check him over.

            “Will he be okay?” asked Derek, not even trying to keep the concern from his voice.

            “He’ll be a darn sight better than he would have been if you hadn’t shown up. Quick get him onto the kitchen table. He’s not out of the woods yet.”

            Derek held onto Stiles hands. The boy looked up at him, mouthing words he couldn’t find the energy to say, then slipped away from Derek as he finally passed out.

           

*****

 

            By the time the Sheriff came looking for his son, they’d dressed all of Stiles’ wounds and he was resting quietly in bed. Grandma Alain was cooking up a broth for him, while Derek watched over him quietly. He’d dressed himself in Stiles’ late Grandfather’s clothes. The scene had nearly made the Sheriff faint himself: his son nearly dead; Derek Hale, wanted murderer sitting over him; his mother in law nonchalantly making dinner in the kitchen. They’d bundled Kate’s body and laid her outside, but there was still blood all over the floor.

            Grandma explained the whole story, how Kate had shown up and paralyzed her, binding up and hiding her away while she waited for Stiles to visit. She told him everything Kate had said about how the Sheriff’s wife, her daughter, had really died. He listened, one eye always on the Hale boy. When he was done he nodded but fetched the red cloak and threw it over Stiles like a blanket, looking pointedly at Derek as he did it. Stiles needed to stay where he was for now, his Grandma would take care of him.

            Derek didn’t resist when they bound his hands and led him back towards the village. His legs went weak when they walked in, the air heavy with the scent of wolf’s bane, but he kept walking anyway. Danny, the carpenter’s apprentice kept watch over him while they searched the Argent’s house. Kate liked to keep trophies, they discovered: Laura’s copper bracelet, Peter’ hunting knife, Stile’s mother’s pendant. All were kept in a box in her trunk with countless other trinkets from those she had killed and claimed they were monsters.

 

*****

 

            It took Stiles over a week before he could even get out of bed without help. The burns and blisters looked worse than ever but his Grandma assured him that was a good thing and meant that they were healing.

            To be honest he was kind of glad that he wasn’t back in town. It gave it some time to all blow over so he could just get back to life and try to forget it all ever happened. Try to pretend he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, gripped with fear and feeling like he was going to die from it. Try to ignore how every time he hears a floor board creak or one of the animals bleat, he jumps and tries to find the nearest weapon. Try to forget how every morning when he woke up and realised that the person sleeping beside him was his Grandma his heart broke a little bit more.

            Those who cared enough came by to visit. His Grandma turned nearly everyone away for the first week. Just his Dad and Scott were allowed, the latter bringing by Allison one time. She’d spent the entire visit crying and apologising until he’d managed to convince her that he didn’t blame her or her Dad or anyone but Kate. They’d all been fooled. Other people started to come with a pie or a get well soon gift, but it was obvious they were all just hankering for gossip.

            There was one person who didn’t come by. Not once. The only person Stiles really wanted to see at all.

            When he’d been strong enough to insist, he’d made his Dad take the cloak off of his bed and store it away. His Dad still didn’t trust Derek. He’d been exonerated but that didn’t stop him from turning into a dangerous creature whenever he pleased. No-one in the village refused Derek anything, but he was obviously uncomfortable. Most of the wolf’s bane had been pulled up from people’s gardens, but there were still a few people who kept it growing. Apparently Derek preferred to spend his days and nights out in the woods anyway. They didn’t seem him very often. Stiles hoped he was okay.

            After three weeks, it was generally agreed that Stiles was ready to come home. The last night he spent in his Grandma’s cottage Stiles couldn’t get to sleep. He tried and he tried, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep at all that night. Instead he got up to see if he could do something productive instead.

            It was bitterly cold and he searched through his grandmother’s things for something to keep him warm, but the only think that was good enough was the thick, heavy red cloak. He wrapped it around himself, sniffing it. He remembered the burns that it had raised on Derek’s hands, how quickly they’d faded. Unlike his that would scar him for years to come, both inside and out.

            In the dark, Stiles heard a mournful howl cut through the night. He waited for a moment, listening for the reply, but none came. It was close by. He had to go. He had to see him.

            He stumbled out into the night, following the direction of the howl. It sounded again, still searching for an answering call. Stiles couldn’t howl but he could shout.

            “Derek!” he yelled.

            The howl went up again a few seconds later. He wasn’t as good at pin pointing the noise as a Wolf would have been. It echoed off the rocks of the mountains and made it difficult, but he thought he had the general direction. He kept calling Derek’s name over and over until he saw the glow of the fire and the howl changed to Derek’s voice calling his own name.

            “This way Stiles.”

            Stiles stopped just outside the glow of the firelight. Derek was sitting by the fire. His torso was bare, but he’d put on trousers after shifting. Stiles was glad of it. The werewolf held out a tankard and beckoned Stiles closer.

            Derek’s face fell when he saw Stiles step into the light. It took Stiles a moment to realise he was staring at the cloak. Stiles didn’t trust him, he must have thought. Stiles shrugged it off and threw it away into the undergrowth, holding out his hands in offering.

            “It’s cold,” he said moving in close to the fire. “It was the only thing I could find.”

            Derek reached around and pulled out a thick animal pelt blanket, drapping it around Stiles’ shoulders. It was so warm.

            “Aren’t you freezing?” asked Stiles.

            “We don’t really get cold,” he said, staring into his tankard.

            They sat in silence for some time. It was both awkward and not awkward all at once. Neither of them needed to say anything, the problem was that they were both obviously dying to.

            “Were you calling for me?” Stiles asked at last.

            “No,” said Derek and Stiles felt his heart sink a little. He didn’t even realise he’d been hoping. “I was just… I don’t know. I just howl hoping someone will respond. Tonight was the first time someone has since Laura died.”  

            Stiles looked at Derek out the corner of his eye. He looked so sad.

            “So is this the plan now. Stay out here in the woods, living off of the land?” Stiles asked.

            “I haven’t been living off the land. I don’t have any money but Mrs Morelle has been really nice to me. She makes me a pie or something every other day. I forgot how good it is to eat food that’s been cooked properly.”

            Stiles looked at Derek. He was already looking healthier but he was still a long way from being his old self.

            “Going to become Widow Morelle’s new husband then,” Stiles joked, hiding a thousand different agonies inside it.

            “I think,” said Derek slowly, “that I’m going to take your advice and move on.”

            What was left of Stiles’ heart broke. It didn’t shatter, it just quietly gave up and fell apart from the thousand different cuts that had been sliced into it.

            “Oh,” he said. “I see.”

            “There’s nothing for me here anymore. No one will say it but it’s obvious everyone in the village wants me gone. It’s not even the Wolf thing they have a problem with. It’s that every time they see me, they remember what they’ve done. They killed my family, even my sister’s three month old baby. They have to live with that guilt and I’m just a reminder of the horror they inflicted.”

            Stiles pulled the pelt around him closer. Derek was right. He felt guilty about it every time he walked past the barren square that had once been the Hale’s home.

            “What if you still had someone to stay for?” said Stiles, the tiny part of his heart that was still beating making him ask. “Would you stay if you had a reason to? Would you stay if I asked you to?”

            “No Stiles. Even though I’d want to, I couldn’t.”

            He had to turn away to hide the tears in his eyes. He wouldn’t cry, not in front of Derek.

            “Come with me,” Derek whispered.

            Stiles wiped around.   

            “What?” he asked. “You want me with you?”

            Derek nodded, smiling sadly.

            “I stayed because I wanted to make sure you were alright but also… I just wanted to be near you. I still want that.”

            Stiles couldn’t believe it. Was Derek really asking what he thought he was? He’d come back for him. Fought for him even at the risk of his own life. That meant something, but did it mean what he wanted.

            He shook himself, stopping his brain from running away with him. He couldn’t just run away with Derek. Could he?

            “I can’t leave everything here behind. My Dad, my Grandma, my life? Where are you even going.”

            Derek shrugged. “Where ever I guess. Somewhere they don’t know anything about me, about what I am, don’t know who Kate Argent is. Was.”

            Stiles looked at Derek as the werewolf stared into the fire. That didn’t sound so bad actually. He’d dreamed of getting out of this boring town for years, hadn’t he? He just always thought it would be with Scott at his side and that one day, they’d come back and grow old together, Scott with Allison and Stiles with... Now Derek, the man he’d been pining over for longer than he dared admit to even himself was offering him to run away with him. But was it just loneliness or something more. He had to know.

            “Why?” Stiles asked. “Why do you want me to come?”

            Derek turned to him.

            “Isn’t it obvious?”

            The space between them closed. Derek’s arm was around his back, his face was so close Stiles’ vision was being clouded by his breath in the cold night. The feeling of their lips pressing together felt like the most natural thing in the world, not the abomination they’d always been taught.

            “I’ve always been different Stiles, even from my own pack. But you and me, we’re the same kind of different.”

            Stiles put his arms around Derek’s neck and kissed him and kissed him until there was nothing left except the two of them.

           

*********************************************************************

 

            Once upon a time there was a boy who lived on the edge of the deep, dark forest and in the forest there lived a big bad wolf. But the boy realised the wolf wasn’t so big and wasn’t so bad and in the deep, dark of the forest they fell in love. One day they ran away together and the two of them lived happily ever after.


End file.
